Momentum
by Scarg
Summary: Set postseries, an older Fai has a drink and a very little hearttoheart with a barkeep. Sort of AU.


_Disclaimah:_ I don't own Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles, or Fai. I don't particularly want to, either—too much work. After all, I'd have to write, and draw, and run around after that silly wizard… Nah. I'm too lazy for that sort of life. winks

_A/N:_ I wrote this in the space of one evening, and had it checked and beta-read by someone who isn't actually that familiar with TRC canon. I hope it's okay. It's kinda set in the distant future, after Syaoran's found Sakura's feathers and Kurogane's found his world. Fai, who didn't really have a concrete wish, is still on the go. Sorry if he seems out of character. Ehm. That's about it. Read and enjoy!

The barkeeper at a small town's single tavern gave the counter an affectionate wipe with the grimy rag in his hand. It had been a slow day so far, and he didn't mind that. Though if this lack of customers kept up, the bar might be in trouble, Raoul rather liked the peaceful feel of an empty bar. Well—almost empty. There was one man, a skinny scarecrow of a man, draped in a ridiculously oversized coat, seated at the very furthest stool to his left. When he first came in, the man had ordered "a pint of your favourite" and slumped down on that stool. He hadn't spoken since.

Raoul glanced over at him. In fact, it didn't look like he'd moved much since then, either. He was leaning heavily on the rough wooden slats of the wall, his body slumped most of the way down. The pint of ale Raoul had delivered not so long ago looked about half-drained. _Or half-full, I suppose_.

Acting on an unidentifiable impulse, the dark man ambled over a few steps closer to his single customer. Stopping a few yards away, he called out, "That'll be six coppers, sir."

"Mm?" He raised his head, and wiped his hand across his eyes. Now that his face was better lit, Raoul could see just how tired he looked. No, more than tired. This fellow looked like he had been going without proper sleep for _years_. The bags under his eyes had bags, his hair was a greasy, off-brown mess, and there were lines around his mouth that couldn't be described as anything less than trenches. In the dim light of the bar, this man looked like a wreck. There was a word for this… Hunted. Hunted and haunted.

"Ah. I don't seem to have any on me at the moment…"

Raoul almost laughed. The line sounded as fake as fake got, delivered by this particular customer. For goodness's sake, he didn't even bother patting his pockets or anything!

Since he was idly interested in why this man looked such a mess, the barkeep took pity on him. "Never fear, my good man. Shall I start a tab for you?"

The man just nodded.

"Or better yet, you tell me what you're running from, and I'll call it even."

The man considered it for a few seconds before the effort got to him, and just nodded again. He waited a beat, then reached for the mug in front of him and had another pull at it. _Definitely more than half-empty now._

When the man didn't seem likely to start of his own accord, Raoul prompted him, "You could start with your name."

Raoul's steady gaze was met with a dull blue one. "It's Fai D. Flowright. My full name's rather long." Something about the tone of the man's voice made it sound like a mantra.

He stopped again.

"And?" Raoul prodded.

"And I'm running from a man I betrayed." He took another swig. "Don't ask me how, or why—it was a long time ago."

Raoul let a long moment go by, giving the man time to finish his thought if he wanted. The air was filled only by the thin squeak of his rag on the counter as his arm pushed it around in slow, steady circles. Studying the gaunt man out of the corner of his eye, he asked, "You're sure he's still after you?"

At that, Fai let out a laugh that sounded stiff with disuse. "Does it matter?" He drained his drink. "It's the principle of the thing now."

"Maybe principles aren't all they're made up to be." Raoul felt like he was following a script. He'd carried on similar conversations a million times before.

"Maybe. But where could I go if I stopped the chase?" It seemed like the other man was following a script too. He must have mulled the same things over hundreds of times.

The barkeep shrugged. "Me, I'd go home."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of the thing—I can't."

And shrugged again. "Then make a home. Some nice place, a town you feel like you could settle down in, at least 'till he finds you."

Fai folded his bony arms on the counter and rested his head on his hands. He closed his eyes and let a brittle smile wander across his lips. "Make a home? Sounds easier than it is."

Silence fell again, leaving a bit of space for the rag's squeaking. Raoul didn't try to press the man into more conversation. He was almost surprised when he heard the man continue his little speech.

"I tried that once, you know. Making a home. I stayed on with someone I loved, stayed for a good while. A few months, even." His voice sounded a little distant, but not sad. These memories were too faded to make him sad, had spent too much time in the sun. "But I had to keep going. If he found me, if he tracked me down to that place…" Fai shrugged, and slid his eyes open again. He glanced up at the man on the other side of the counter, then back down at the space in front of him. "People could have been hurt."

Raoul nodded silently. This was another part he was familiar with, the part of the stoic barkeep, listening to people pour out their life stories. He played the part well.

"I cared more about that sort of thing then," Fai said. He gestured vaguely. "You know. People, hurt…" His eyes took on that distant cast again, before coming back to the present.

He straightened up with a quiet moan. "Phew… Could use a night of rest." That funny, worn-out smile from before made a return. "Like that's going to happen any time soon."

Raoul just watched as Fai swung his lanky legs around, off the stool, and got up. The man bent over in jerky, angular movement to grab his bag, and stood up. Now that he looked closer, the barkeeper could tell that Fai was actually a deal taller than he seemed. His posture was hunched and protective, wary, that was what made the difference.

"Thanks very much for the booze, whatever it was. I'd best be on my way now." Fai nodded to Raoul, and started walking.


End file.
